He brought it to his face, then turned her hand so that the palm faced him. Then, he held his lips to the few lines running across its surface, kissing her like a gentleman would a fair lady.
She felt ridiculous, but loved that he did it all the same.
“I want you, Sara.”
They turned to face one another. Fingers interlaced as hungry lips did the same. Warm tongues flickered in a humid dance before they were falling back upon the bed with sweat breaking upon their bodies.
Braze eased lower upon Sara and took a nipple that stiffened between his teeth. Her breath came more deeply as he pulled back before releasing her. The brown aureola took on a rosy hue as it puckered in tight and stiff. Then he came back but instead of seizing Sara once more in his teeth, he blew against the damp his mouth had left behind.
Sara moaned and opened her legs for him. An invitation to plunder her at twenty thousand feet.
“Please," she breathed, then finished with "...Master.”
Braze pulled back to stare deeply into Sara’s eyes.
“I have something in mind for us once we get back. However, I admit the temptation that you represent, little slave, leaves me hungry for an hors d’oeuvre before the main course.”
She breathed deeply. The look in his eyes was so intense. As always, she wanted to look away, but fought the impulse and let herself drown in his amber color flecked with green and gold.
“Oh yes...please, Master.”
Braze nodded then abruptly got up from the bed to pad barefooted over to a chest of drawers in the relatively limited confines of the sleeping compartment.
From within, he withdrew a series of objects, each still in their clear plastic wrappings.
“I think you’re ready,” he murmured then began to unwrap the cellophane away from something that reminded Sara of a children’s toy. Except that it’s color was ominously black and that it was much larger than a plaything for small hands.
One end was shaped like the top of a bowling pin, relatively narrow in form. Then it grew thicker in a series of stepped diameters, each one larger than the last.
The thing caught the light as Braze turned it in his hands, then he was climbing back across the bed.
“On your hands and knees, slave,” he commanded.
Sara did as she was told, then smiled despite the serious tone of Braze’s voice. She had just heard an intake of his breath as she had brought her bottom up to present herself plainly to him.
“There are no words,” he whispered, but she heard him continue just the same, “Your shape beckons to me the way that it must have been for Botticelli or Raphael. Such exquisite curves, darling girl.”
She felt him moving behind her, then something cold and wet touched her back opening.
It made her shiver and it was not only because of the strange sensation but because she understood that it was but a prelude to other things of which she had yet to learn.
Illicit things. Wrong things.
The thought of it made Sara flush. It might have been with some embarrassment, but the heat she felt was also one that centered itself between her legs and she knew that she was glistening wet with juices that she was helpless to control.
Oh, how she wanted whatever Braze meant to do.
Then she felt something warm and hard press against her. It felt like it could be the thing Braze had in his hands a moment before and it rolled through the lubricant that he had just applied to her back entry, spreading it around with a feeling that quickly had Sara panting.
There was pressure that gradually increased and she willed herself to relax, to not fight the unfamiliar sensation of it. Then, suddenly the butt plug was easing inside of her, stretching her gently open.
The feeling was absolutely bizarre, but that did not stop Sara from pushing back toward Braze.
“Very good,” he said, “Now don’t move.”
He left the bed again. Once more, the sounds of plastic being torn away from something, then he was back again.
Sara felt something tickling her down her spine. Braze drew this new object along her vertebrae, then pulled it up and over Sara’s shoulder to where she could see.
A multitude of black leather strands hung like a horse’s tail from a short handle.
“This is known as a scourge, slave, and was once meant for the worst kinds of punishment. But, for you, and in my hands, we shall make it sing.”
There was no warning. No words to prepare her.
Those many strands of leather crashed into the skin of Sara’s bottom, some wrapping around to her hips, everywhere they touched stinging and hot.
It came again, and again, slowly gaining in force until Sara cried out. It hurt her, of that there was no doubt. But, those strands just as often impacted against the shining plug still in her back passage and the jolt of pleasure there was amazing.
He was relentless, striking her over and over, and Sara could feel when the beast began to surface in the man who mastered her.
The scents of a deep pine forest invaded the room. As before, it seemed as if the air darkened around them, as if they suddenly walked along dark paths and the ground underfoot gave up the rich odors of raw, black soil.
Suddenly the scourge was cast aside and she felt him come to her. Braze eased himself between her legs and she felt his cock slip past her opening, only to rise up and stroke through her folds.
Oh, my God, she thought, then even thinking turned to animal instinct and desire and words meant for humankind escaped her.
His member slipped back and forth through her folds, her juices practically dripping across him. The strokes rippled across her apex with spikes of such intense pleasure that it was like pain, and all the while, the plug rocked with their motions, its rhythm drawing groans from between Sara’s lips.
Braze drew back from her. Perhaps to admire his handiwork, perhaps simply just to admire her.
Then, his cock was at her cleft, pushing into her, then slipping deep, deep inside.
The feeling of him encased within her carried Sara over the edge. Her gasping breaths came up short as she felt him stroke in deep, his entire length running thick and hard, when with a shuddering sigh, Sara’s hands gripped the bedsheets in a white-knuckled spasm.
Her orgasm bucked down her body. Long muscles clenched across her abdomen before releasing then seizing in tight again. The pleasure of it rolled through Sara in waves of electricity that went to the tips of her fingers. On it went as she felt it anchor deeply behind her navel then ripple down to the small muscles that held Braze’s cock.
She clenched around him and she could hear him growling as he strove to maintain his control.
Her face hurt. Muscles quivered in her cheeks and mouth as her lips stretched back over a smile that would not release her.
Her man, her wolf, was riding her as she came and it was only getting better each time.
At last, Sara was able to take a shuddering breath and as she did, she felt Braze slip from within her.
Feeling daring, Sara said, “Can I please look at you, Master? I would like to see you...the wolf you, I mean.”
She heard a low grumbling sound that took her a moment to recognize. He was chuckling at her question.
Taking it as a tacit reply, Sara craned her head to look over her shoulder and back at Braze.
The man she knew was there, looking back at her. But, his eyes were no longer a familiar, molten amber. Rather, they had taken on a silvery yellow hue at the same time that his body, already heavily muscled, positively shone in gleaming blocks of delicious masculinity. His shoulders were enormous, capable of supporting worlds upon them, with a chest and torso chiseled in high relief like that of an Olympian deity.
His smile was bright and clear, but there, too, the wolf made itself known as she discerned large canine fangs, white and dangerous.
Brazier Abraxis was proportioned like a god, only this was a savage god that paid homage to full moons and nights filled with the hunt.
Sara could see that he held himself from fully transforming, and what was more, that it cost him. But, his discipline defined him and she knew that it was but second nature for such a man.
She squinted her eyes. There was something different about him, though. Something fundamental.
The dark tattoos that swarmed over his body were no longer so vivid. It was if they had faded, where before they appeared to be deeply emblazoned over his body.
She could have been wrong, but he looked purer somehow.
He looks clean...no, that’s not right. He looks less evil.
Her thoughts made no sense to her, but as he put a warm palm against her bottom, she could have sworn that she felt it, too. He frightened her less, as if the noble animal hiding inside him had rid itself of a monstrous shadow that darkened its soul.
“Ah, Sara...my little slave. Ever since I saw you in that restaurant, I have dreamed of taking you. Here.”
He gave the object still inside her back passage a light tap that sent a shiver down Sara’s spine.
“I think you are ready now.”
She did not know how to answer him. The idea of it was just so bizarre for her, yet remained exciting as his words resounded in the room. His deep, warm voice drew her in and before she could reconsider, she was nodding back at him.
“Ok...Master.”
Braze reached down to the bedsheets and picked up an unopened condom. Sara turned back to face the wall as she heard him undo the wrapper.
There was silence, then the strange feeling of him drawing the butt plug out from inside her. She never would have wanted to admit it, but in so brief a time, she had grown used to it...almost to the point of forgetting it was there.